


Pick Up the Pieces

by fallenxstarr



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Consoling, Fluff, M/M, Mage Death, One-Shot, end of book
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 23:28:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16942746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallenxstarr/pseuds/fallenxstarr
Summary: A short scene directly after the Mage's death. One-shot.





	Pick Up the Pieces

Baz was looking at him differently. That is to say, Baz wasn’t looking at him like he was a complete arse hole. It was a big enough change when he’d stopped looking at him like he was 10 seconds away from murdering him in front of an audience of cheering relatives- this was just a step too far. It made Simon feel like he was going to start crying again.

“Are you okay, Snow?”

Simon felt dully thankful at the familiar use of his last name. If he’d have referred to him as ‘Simon’ who probably would have just died on the spot, and then it would have been years before he got the chance to make up an excuse for it.

“Yes.”

Baz raised a sharp eyebrow, clearly not buying it. This look was a little closer to something Simon felt he was used to. “Really?”

“Yes.” Simon repeated, still monotone, unable to force the energy to sound genuine.

“Oh piss off.”

He jerked his head up to look at him. “Excuse me?”

“I’m trying to make you  _ feel better _ .” He sounded irritated that he had to explain or that he had to make him feel better at all.

“And?”

“And you’re making it bloody hard!”

“Well, I’m sorry my grieving isn’t easier on you,” Simon retorted sarcastically.

“Ah ha. You  _ are _ grieving.” He looked pompously victorious for a second, then his eyes went all gentle again so that Simon wanted to look away. “It’s okay that you’re upset, you know. Your dad just died.”

“He wasn’t actually my-”

“Oh, give it a break, he obviously was.”

“You mean... like emotionally?”

“Aleister Crowley, Simon! No, obviously- do you actually not know this already?”

Simon scowled at him on instinct, then frowned. “Do you mean...” A cold chill ran through him. “My dad just died?”

“Oh Merlin... Snow.  _ Simon. _ ”

He forced his gaze off the floor and back up at Baz. He looked worried. It occurred to Simon suddenly that he’d never seen him look like that. Scared, yeah. Annoyed, definitely. But not like this. Like he was afraid something was about to break.

“Are you okay?” He asked again.

Simon tried to breathe. His eyes were still on Baz. Baz who could break anything with a look. Baz, second smartest person he knew. Baz, who had kissed him in a blaze of fire. Baz who he’d saved, and who’d saved him, around and around back and forth like a chaotic and intricate dance. He reached out a hand without thinking and grabbed his.

“No. Definitely not.”

He looked satisfied, but was still peering, like he was trying to take his temperature with his eyes.

“Do you want to be alone?”

Simon shook his head. There was nothing he wanted less.

“Sit with me?”

He was leaning beside him, solid and strong and still there. Like he’d never let himself believe that could be. He felt Baz’s hand on his back, below his still startling and new wings, and he sighed into it.

Nothing was okay. Everything was different and everything was scary and he had no idea what to do. Things were going to be terrifying. This wasn’t a happy ending with a clean wrap up. But.

He looked at Baz, caught his eyes, and smiled.

At least he had someone who cared to pick up the pieces.


End file.
